


Red Plaid

by rhysgore



Category: BioShock
Genre: Cigarette Burning, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Forced Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, M/M, Shotgunning, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s this?” he asked, thumbing over plaid fabric and buttons.</p><p>Fontaine smirked. He shook a cigarette out of a box in his hands, put it in his mouth, and lit it.</p><p>“Just a present for you, kid."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Plaid

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry for everything i've done to jack wynand. he doesn't deserve it.
> 
> nearly 2k words of shameless gross smut. additional warning for use of slurs, although nothing canon atypical. written in celebration of being done w/ all my shitty college apps (yaay)

The new clothes were soft and silky to the touch. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with them, and Jack was glad to get something new and comfortable to replace the almost-rags that he was wearing, but ultimately, he was wary of any “gift” from Fontaine. The man was not the generous type- anything he gave usually had an equal or greater price tag attached to it.

“What’s this?” he asked, thumbing over plaid fabric and buttons. His voice was hoarse from disuse. It had been a while since Fontaine had graced his dingy, lonely cell with his presence, and the only other thing approaching regular human contact was the twice-daily delivery of food through the slat in the bottom of the steel door.

Fontaine smirked. He shook a cigarette out of a box in his hands, put it in his mouth, and lit it.

“Just a _present_ for you, kid. I’d like to see you try it on, if it’s not too much trouble. Got some plans involving what you’ve got there.” The man took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing a cloud of smoke around the confines of the room. He crossed over to the side farthest from the door and sat on the small bed, the only piece of furniture in the room.

The deliberate way Fontaine had placed himself, coupled with the predatory look in his eyes gave Jack little room to imagine what the _plans_ involved. He wanted it and didn't want it. On one hand, it would alleviate the oppressive boredom and loneliness of being left in a cell alone- on the other hand, Fontaine was the one who had trapped him here in the first place.

“C’mon, Jack. Let’s have some fun. Put it on.” If this was going to happen, it was best for him to do it before he was ordered. Under Fontaine’s lecherous gaze, Jack stripped down to his boxers as clinically as possible, and was reaching for the new clothes when the man tsked loudly. “Underwear off, kid. I shouldn't have to spell it out for you.”

With a small grimace, Jack slid his boxers off, exposing himself entirely. The room was on the chilly side, but he still felt a prickle of heat from the embarrassment of having his body so on display. Desperate to cover himself, he reached for the nearest piece of clothing, the plaid garment.

He brought it up to eye level to inspect it, and his mouth went dry. The article was a skirt, short and red and pleated. Jack flushed red, but anything was better than nudity at this point, so he slid it on so it fit snugly over his hips. The edges of the pleats barely came down to mid-thigh. If he bent over, his entire ass would be on display.

The next piece of clothing was a white blouse. The cut was a little too narrow for Jack’s broad shoulders, and to get it on, he had to leave the top two buttons unbuttoned. As he dressed, his blush started spreading down to his exposed chest.

“Lookin’ good, kid. But there’s still one thing left.” Fontaine leaned back, glancing meaningfully at the last thing on the pile of clothing. Jack followed his gaze, and swallowed audibly as he saw what it was- a pair of white thigh-high stockings. With trembling hands, he picked them up, and slid them onto his legs one at a time.

“Turn for me. Let me see you.” Jack did as he was told, turning around in place somewhat stiffly. It seemed to be enough to satisfy Fontaine, who gave a low whistle of appreciation. When Jack turned to face him again, Fontaine was patting his legs. “C’mere, Jack. Come sit on daddy’s lap.” With hesitant steps, Jack crossed the room, sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the feeling of a stiff cock pressing against his leg.

With the hand that wasn't holding a cigarette, Fontaine grasped Jack’s jaw firmly, inspecting him. He frowned, possibly displeased by Jack’s petulant expression.

“Oh, don't give me that. Just because you're dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl don't make you one,” Fontaine sneered. “You're aching for this, ain't’cha? Hungry little slut.” He forced Jack’s lips open, took a long drag of his cigarette, and blew the smoke straight into Jack’s mouth, forcing him to inhale it.

Jack coughed, eyes watering. He squirmed in discomfort, inadvertently grinding down on Fontaine’s erection in the process.

“Mm, I knew it.” Fontaine moved his hand, played with the hem of his stockings before running his hand all the way up Jack’s leg, slipping under his skirt. Jack squeezed his eyes shut as that roaming hand fondled him, rubbing over his cock and balls, which, much to his displeasure, started to react to the stimulation. “You want to be a good girl for daddy, right Jack?”

“No,” Jack mumbled, shaking his head. “No. No.” When the hand caressing him stopped abruptly, he opened his eyes to see Fontaine giving him a stony glare, anger burning dimly in his eyes.

“You wanna run that by me again, kid?” Fontaine’s voice was tight and clipped.

“I don't want to be good,” Jack said, shrinking back. He tried to push the hand under his skirt away, but it just gripped his thigh with an iron strength. “Let _go_ of me.” Nails dug into his skin and twisted the soft flesh.

Fontaine tsked. There was a cold fury in his eyes.

“And I was in such a good mood today, too,” he hissed. He took another long drag of his cigarette, and then put it out. By pressing the burning end into Jack’s exposed sternum. Jack cried out in pain, but Fontaine surged forwards, swallowing his scream with a brutal, open-mouthed kiss that forced smoke down Jack’s throat, searing his lungs. Jack screwed his eyes shut, trying to edge away from the kiss that was as good as choking him, but Fontaine was unrelenting.

Finally he broke the kiss, and Jack gasped and coughed, struggling to regain his breath. There was a searing pain on and in his chest, and his eyes stung, tears prickling in the corners. The respite was brief, however, and a moment later, Fontaine was hoisting him up and laying him face down over his lap.

“You're not gonna behave? Fine.” Jack felt his skirt get lifted up, and a calloused palm rub against his exposed backside. “You know what the punishment is for bad girls.” The hand disappeared, only to return a second later as Fontaine brought it down hard against Jack’s bare ass. “You think you get to say ‘no’? To _me_?” Jack cried out as he was spanked again and again, a hail of harsh blows raining down on his abused cheeks. “You fucking ungrateful little _whore_.” There was no pattern of hits- Fontaine might have been losing his temper, but he was still controlled enough to keep the strikes random, to ensure Jack was on edge.

“Please!” Jack felt like he was about to cry, from pain, from embarrassment. “Please, no more! I can be good!” Tears broke loose from his eyes, traced down his cheeks.

The hits slowed, and stopped. There was no sound in the room except for one or two sobs that Jack choked back. With deliberate gentleness, Fontaine rubbed over his abused ass with a cool palm.

“What did you say?”

Jack swallowed. “I’ll be good for you…” he mumbled. “Daddy.” He was still crying, but his tears of shame were completely silent.

Fontaine reached two fingers under the hem of one of Jack’s socks, pulled the elastic out, and snapped it back against his thigh. It stung a little, but compared to being spanked it was practically nothing.

“See, kid? Wasn't that easy?” Fontaine’s voice was a mockery of kindness.

“Y-yes, daddy.” Jack felt strong arms wrap around him, manhandle him off of Fontaine’s lap, position him so he was bent over the side of the bed, face pressing into the sheets and ass once more on full display.

He heard the sound of Fontaine unzipping his pants, and a second later, felt the blunt slickness of a finger start to push its way inside of him. Fontaine must not have been too angry- when he truly lost his temper, he usually preferred to take Jack with no preparation, regardless of how painful it was to both of them.

As a second finger entered him, Jack let out a low hiss. His hands gripped the fabric of the sheets as Fontaine teased and stretched him. The man’s hand grew rougher as his patience lessened, until he was withdrawing the digits with a groan of frustration.

“That's good enough,” he grunted. Jack felt something else rubbing against his hole, bigger and blunter than the fingers before them. “Mm, kid, you have no idea how good you look right now. Innocent little schoolgirl, about to take daddy’s cock like the slut you are. I shoulda brought you panties. It would've been great to see your ass in them, all pretty and red.”

Jack wasn’t aware it was possible to feel this humiliated. His cheeks burned with heat. _Just fuck me and get it over with_ , he silently prayed. In an attempt to get Fontaine to just get on with it, he pushed back against the cock pressed against him, and heard Fontaine laugh in response.

“I swear kid, you can be such a damn _prude_ sometimes. But at the end of the day you’re just desperate for a good, hard fuck, aren’t you?” Fontaine grabbed Jack’s hips, holding him steady in place, leaning forwards with just enough pressure to get the head of his erection inside. “Tell me. Tell me how much you want my nice, big cock.”

Shutting his eyes, Jack mumbled something against the sheets.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I-I want your cock, daddy.” He had to force the words out of his throat. Everything he said made him want to crawl into a hole and die. “I want it so bad.” Jack wasn’t sure if he sounded sincere enough, but that seemed to do it for Fontaine, who thrust home with a loud moan, filling Jack entirely in a single stroke. Jack felt his entire body slide forwards, back, and then forwards again as Fontaine withdrew and slammed into him once more, setting a brutal rhythm.

“Oh fuck, _Jack_ ,” Fontaine hissed out, snapping his hips back and forth. His hands gripped tight on Jack’s waist, forcing him to stay in one place and take everything. The movement and pressure and stretch nearly felt like a punishment. His blouse was still on, and the rubbing of the fabric against his skin, especially around the cigarette burn on his sternum, made Jack want to scream. Instead, he bit down on his lip to keep any sound from coming out, hard enough to bleed.

When Fontaine reached around to pump the erection Jack didn’t realize he had, he actually did scream. Fear, anger, humiliation, and pain burst out of him, and Jack couldn’t hold it back. He screamed as Fontaine fucked him into the mattress, even as enough pleasure joined the pain to make him come, as weak as he’d ever, into the hand milking him. As he came, he tightened up just slightly, and that extra stimulation was enough to tip Fontaine over the edge of his own orgasm.

They stayed in that position for a minute, Fontaine panting, and Jack crying silently. He could feel come dripping down his thighs, a slow trickle soaking into his socks that became stronger when Fontaine pulled out of him with an obscene squelching noise. Jack didn’t turn around, even though he knew he must have looked equally obscene- ass bright red and leaking, thighs trembling, still wearing that damn schoolgirl outfit. His hands squeezed the sheets, clenching and unclenching as he waited for Fontaine to leave him alone.

Presently, he heard the click of a lighter, and smelled smoke as Fontaine lit another cigarette.

“That was good, kid. You’re getting a lot better at this.” The smug tone he took post-coitus was almost unbearable. Jack stayed still, listening to Fontaine zip up his pants and unlock the cell door. “I’ll be back in a day or two. Keep the outfit- I’ll bring something different to play with next time.”

The door swung shut, leaving Jack alone in the dark once again.


End file.
